Wow, my cup runneth over. Now I am totally spinney. This is what makes all the work and the hours worth it.

5.0 out of 5 stars Brilliant!
By Amazon Customer on September 22, 2016
Format: Kindle Edition|Verified Purchase
I wouldn’t be surprised to see this story on the big screen, as a major blockbuster, one of these days. “Shadows over Avalon”, Book 1 of the Shadows series, has all the ingredients to make a captivating high concept movie.
Arthur, an incredibly gifted young citizen of the underwater city of Avalon, is so special that he’s under constant scrutiny. Arthur won’t accept the life programmed for him by Avalon’s powers to be, and decides to escape and fight above water with Terrans, against their oppressors, the repulsive and all-powerful Nestines.
In order to prepare for his escape on the surface, Arthur secretly accesses the all-knowing Archive system, and discovers the story of Ashira, the beautiful and fierce War Maid, princess of the surface-world, betrayed by her father, and then by her peers. Ashira’s life is tied to the story of Avalon. But how does Ashira’s life relate to his? Why does he have dreams of a previous life? And what is his real purpose?
C.N. Lesley’s imagination has no limits. The worlds she created are so vivid and well thought out, that the reader’s gets completely immersed in this brilliant tale of lost love, mind games, and science fiction. Very impressive!

5.0 out of 5 stars Excalibur and dinosaurs. How can you miss?, September 22, 2016

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This review is from: Shadow Over Avalon (Kindle Edition)
When I was a kid, my favorite book was T.H. White’s The Once and Future King (mostly The Sword in the Stone section with Wart and Merlin; I picked up the later sections as I grew older). Like many kids, I loved all things Arthur and tales of knights of the round table. I listened to the soundtrack of Camelot for hours, when other kids were listening to the Beatles and Herman’s Hermits.

Later, much to my wife Carol’s disbelief, I became a huge fan of Mark Schulz’ Cadillac and Dinosaurs graphic novels. I only wish he’d written more.

When C.N. Lesley wove the two together to create Shadow Over Avalon, she catapulted me in readers’ heaven. This juxtaposition does her injustice, however. Her prose cast a spell on me long before the heroine Shadow encounters her first Saurian after betrayal by her lover’s advisors and the priesthood.

Heroine? you might ask. Isn’t this a novel about King Arthur? And, improbably, dinosaurs? Yes and no. Shadow Over Avalon tells the story of the restoration of Camelot in the distant future after an apocalypse demolished civilization and repopulated the planet with resurgent predatory reptilian species. Lesley combines two narrative storylines, that of a young outcast named Shadow who forges an alliance of outlaws and a scholar named Arthur who pries into unauthorized records in the clerical database.

Neither realize darker forces conspire to control the planet and its human populations. Lesley weaves a compelling narrative that threads more elements than a North American quilt, adding revelation onto revelation to draw the reader into her story—genetic manipulation, undersea and space colonization, and Celtic mythology.

Lesley’s prose draws the reader in immediately, and keeps them riveted for the rest of the novel. It’s been a long time since I read a book that reminded me why I enjoyed reading as much as I do, or that I downloaded and read the sequel as soon as I finished the first installment. I admit that there were moments I felt I was in the middle of a Hong Kong or Bollywood movie as Lesley threw in yet another fantastic element or plot twist, but, in the end, they all mesh together into a satisfying whole.

The centurion didn’t help her with learning to read and write their language as he had promised. He sent Nyka in his place. Azriel still wanted to please the centurion above everything, despite her constant attempts to neutralize his venom. His absence robbed her of the ability to judge her progress.
Nyka had set the portable unit up for her and showed her how to key the screen; activate the voice mode and how to interact with it. Aside from this, she was left completely on her own. Buzzing from the food hatch, to announce a meal break at regular intervals, became her way of marking time. Notably, the food was the same as had been given out to the captive women in the holding pens. At least the centurion’s task gave her something to occupy her attention. She wanted to master the skill since it would be easier to navigate her way through the ship if she could read the directions, if that is what they were, posted at the intersection of corridors.
The worst part of her isolation was increasingly vivid dreams. They always started in an Angel holding cell where all her kind were gathered; a rare event in itself. She could see them but not make them hear her or see her. This was the point when she started awake, still screaming at them to notice her. And then came the last, most horrific dream of all. She had watched what the Angels were doing this time, instead of trying to make them notice her.
Azriel woke shaking, covered with a cold sweat. Only once had an Angel died without having an immediate body replacement. Uriel had been more than a friend to her when they got a chance to spend rare time together. Like her, he was an assassin, although no-one would guess from looking at him. His curling blond hair cascaded to his shoulders, framing a face of classical proportions. Deep-set blue eyes sparkled with mischief when he was around her. Added to the good looks, in her opinion, was the fact that no one supplied the Angels with a means to shave during non-working times. His beard came through about four shades darker than his hair, making him look like a charming rogue.
Both Coda and Azriel had been with Uriel on his last mission. It should have been an easy break-in for Coda to access the mainframe data base. Something had gone wrong. They were expected. Heavy duty weapons fired at them without warning. Azriel found a way for them to get clear when a shell blew a hole in a security perimeter wall. She turned to call to the others and saw Uriel’s body drop to the ground. His handsome head had been blown clean away: gone into a million pieces of mush and bone. He couldn’t be regenerated without his memories. He was really dead; forever. It was Coda who got them clear that day. Azriel didn’t remember how; everything was a blur from that moment on.
Back at base, she turned her face to the wall in their underground cell, ignoring Coda’s attempts to reach her mind. One by one all the Angels had been thrust into the cold, dimly lit rock cavern. They gathered around her in silence, all withdrawn from assignments while the controllers searched for the breach of security. When the last Angel arrived they began making a marker for the fallen.
Grieving together, the Angels carved Uriel’s name in the rock floor, taking turns to pound it with a hand-sized piece of harder stone someone had managed to smuggle in past the guards. No one investigated the noise. No one came near to give them food or water beyond what was already in the holding cell. Not one of them spoke. The sound of the stone pounding echoed for days and nights until they had finished. They did this for the one who was never coming home to them.
In her dream, she had seen them pounding with the stone again, heard the sharp beat going on and on until they all gathered around in silence, looking down. When they moved aside, she saw another name under Uriel’s . . . Her own.

The tingling of the venom rushing through her blood stopped when it reached her extremities, but the euphoria remained. A great weight lifted from Azriel, and it wasn’t just from the centurion easing off her. She didn’t stir when he raised her loose blue garment, stopping before he exposed her breasts. His intention seemed merely to check her wound. How kind he was. Why hadn’t she realized this before? She was so lucky to have been taken by the Outworlders.
The centurion grinned. The tips of his fangs showed, still stained with her blood. He was in her mind again and yet she didn’t care anymore.
“Good girl. Lie still while I get more bio packing. You want to get well, don’t you? I want you healed.”
Yes, she would do whatever he asked of her just because he asked. She needed to please him. Somewhere, buried deep within, a tic of wrongness died. Long forgotten happiness surged into life.
He looked up at her from a crouched position. “You don’t want to die, do you? I don’t want you to die.”
The Sidhe retrieved a med kit and returned to her. He gently removed the old dressing to clean the wound. The edges were much closer together, and it looked as healthy as a wound could look. Did she want to die? No, she didn’t. Not if he wished her to live.
“When you are healed would you like to work out with me? I’d prefer you kept your battle edge.”
She would adore more time with him. He was so gentle as he tended to her. She could barely remember how ‘gentle’ felt until he touched her.
He paused, looking up at her. “We are searching for a new home, one that has no sentient lifeforms and is able to sustain us. It will be hard at first, building a new beginning from what is available. I need someone who is used to living off the land to instruct us all. This is why I took an Angel . . . My beautiful Angel.”
She melted under his green gaze. Without thinking, Azriel reached out to touch his face. He caught her wrist, arresting her movement.
“No. Those are decisions best made when my venom wears off, and it will. Beginnings are a delicate path to tread.” He returned her hand to rest by her side and then finished dressing her wound, pulling down her clothing to its former modest position.
Disappointment flared. She wanted him.
“Later, if you still feel the same way.” He packed away the med kit and returned it to storage in the side cabinet by her bed. He then sat down on the bed, close but not touching her. “Nyka thinks you are bored, and I agree. I would like you to learn to write in our language. Do you think you can do this for me?”
Of course she could.
“When you have mastered this skill, I want you to write about everything you learned of survival skills from your experiences in the wilderness on your homeworld. Now I want you to sleep. When you wake, I will return to show you how to operate a portable console, and then we can begin.”
Her eyelids grew heavy. She drifted into sleep.